Old friends, new experiences

Got back in touch with an old friend of mine from high school, who has transitioned. I can't wait to see him; we should be able to get together sometime this weekend. Plus, he is moving to SF in November, so I can hang out with him and his boyfriend. I am thrilled!

In other news, I have a scrip, and I should be starting next week sometime. I feel much better about things. The euphoria has settled down a bit, which is good. Things are back in balance. Now can I pleasepleaseplease get my thesis done?

Interview.

I just got off the phone with Dr. MacGregor of JFKU's Museum Studies program. He's such a nice guy. The program sounds great. I'm so extremely excited about it. I should find out after April fifth if I'm in.

I'm definitely going there, even if I need to wait a year or two to get in or to be able to pay for it. It sounds like this program is all about working to change the institution of The Museum to fulfill its potential in present-day society, something which The Museum sorely needs.

Stuff over the weekend

So. Starting from Friday.

I went out to eat with Mom, for her birthday. We had a good time. I had a good steak. She had a free steak.

That night I had a nightmare that she had been murdered because of me.

The following day I went to Ren Faire. I was frustrated because of my inability to be supportive of certain ones, I snapped unforgiveably at certain other ones, and otherwise it was an okay day.

Sunday I discussed things with my father. That night I did not sleep. I worked myself up into a state of desperate anguish instead.

I got up at six to get blood drawn by a cute gay phlebotamist. He took five or six vials out of me-- I didn't look at them long enough to get an accurate count-- then told me to go eat breakfast. I did so, with my father, and we talked a little more. I came back and got another vial drawn, whereupon I passed out because my blood pressure dived into the basement.

Dad took me home and I hung around until my bitsdoctor appointment. Then I had my bits poked by an RN who was surprisingly extremely understanding and patient and kind. I was glad because it was nervewracking.

That night I talked to my mom. This was also nervewracking.

Then I woke up. I came home. I am now here, stressing about things I wouldn't have been stressing over if it weren't for my discussions with my parents. With a tiny dose of kind, loving, misplaced concern, they have the power to make me feel like total shit, doubt my ability to make my own decisions, doubt my sanity, and feel utter anguish because I cannot get across to them how I am feeling. When I'm not with them, I feel competent and in charge of my own life, but when I'm in their house, I feel like I revert to the patterns I developed as a child, and I can't show them that I'm not that person anymore.

Oh well. Exeunt angst.

Do yah ever have those dreams...

...that are sequels to other dreams you had months or years ago?

A long time ago I had a dream where I went to Ireland, this particular part of Ireland I'm not really sure where it is, and I borrowed a horse to ride around because the roads weren't really fit for cars and I didn't have one anyway. Well, as it was getting late I realized I didn't have anyplace to pasture the horse. So I came upon this sort of shack in the woods and there was a little pasture beside it. I went to the door of the shack to ask whoever lived there if I could put the grey out to pasture in their field for the night. The old woman who lived there all alone was really suspicious of me and kind of nasty, but I perservered, and finally she let me pasture the grey and then invited me in for some tea and then confessed how lonely she was, and we got to talking. We talked all night, almost. She turned out to be really nice, only all the other people in the village ignored her and some said she was a witch and others that she was crazy.

Last night I dreamed I went back there and she had died, but had left me her farm in her will, and there was another village girl taking care of it for me. My father was with me and I told him this story of how I had met her, and how strange it was that when she met me I was a girl and now I was a boy, and I wondered what the people of the little village would think. And I found an antique set of jade forks and spoons in a shop for seven pounds twenty three.

Year in Retrospective

This time last year I was:

Also celebrating my birthday at Ren Faire
Also needing to clean my room
Still feeling "boy"
Still being an asshole about my insecurities about my gender
Calling myself te/ta/teir
Inventing Serendipity Blackened Chicken

The following month Erin visited, and I will likely be seeing her again soon. In May I wrote angsty gothy poetry about my gender issues and had Freudian dreams and came up with Jungian analogies to explain myself to me. I irritated D, who was staying with us for a time; and this month T has moved out. I started working a construction job. June I continued working. Also, Reagan died, and I linked to a eulogy of him that I said sounded like Hunter S. Thompson; last month, Hunter S. Thompson died. As yet, no eulogy for him that sounds like Reagan. I talked about mistakes and saying hurtful things; this month, I have been saying hurtful things and have decided to take some time out from message boards to forestall this. I also started the ball rolling for San Francisco. I was reading R. Kaldera's Hermaphrodeities for the first time and talking gender theory.

Grandma had her stroke in July, which put her in hospital and would later necessitate her moving into an assisted living facility. I toured Gainesville with amarna, did a robot protest, quit my job, and went to San Francisco. In August I railed at hurricanes-- otherwise there wasn't much else to do. In September were more hurricanes, teaching middle and high schoolers to make silver jewelry in a kiln, and falling down stairs. I prayed to myself to make W. lose the election. I didn't come through on that one. In October I did a Samhain ritual to help clarify my gender issues, and stepped out for awhile on Samhain night; this didn't help immediately, but see where I am now. I also started explaining myself to strangers. In November I did a trans awareness fair at school and I invented Blackbird. In December was the first time I mentioned The Troubles here; in January I interned at the museum and saw Metamorphoses and Boston Marriage and made an appointment with an endo I will be keeping on Tuesday and then it was February and I went back to The City with Rew and broke a guy's stereo with the Psychic Power Ov My Mynd and talked gender theory and then it was this month and I've been working on thesis like mad and I went to Ren Faire today and saw Thryn and Bobq and Storymouse and thought I had diabetes and pruned my message board habit and got a rec for T.

Today I turned 25. Ciara suggests that the year holds a scholarship for me, although less than I need, admission to grad school, and the start of a really great transition. Also a cool roommate when I move. My own reading is more vague because I'm not so good at it. But I'm excited.

It's time.

...for me to kick the message board habit. Except, you know, for the ones I moderate.

Or at least take a break for awhile.

Today was weird.

I went and got my blood glucose measured today. After poking me about fifty thousand times they got a reading-- a fasting level of 220. I was in fits. Then they sent me for a urine test and then poked me some more. My urine was fine, but when they managed to get a second reading it was again 220. I left to go get food (because at that point I was about to pass out) and as I was eating the nurse called me on my cell to say "Oh, yeah. I just checked mine too, and mine was 300. And I'm not diabetic. So maybe there's a problem with our tester." Maybe. Anyway I'm not dead yet. I'm probably fine. I think.

Saturday I went to the ren faire. I love the ren faire. I'm going back again on Sunday I think, since Sunday will be my 25th birthday.

It's nice to hear someone say

...they think you're doing the right thing.

Recommendation from therapist: check.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and a few days after that...

I have an appointment with Mary tomorrow, to try and get a letter for hormones.

I'm rather scared.

Add to that the one or two days a week for the last week and a half I seem to be having excessive thirst all day that water won't do anything for, and you have a very scared boy here.

I'll have to ask the doc to check me out for diabetes while I'm there. Luckily he also happens to be a diabetes specialist. Look how eagerly I give up sugar right now. I must be taking this fairly seriously. And "I'm sure you don't have diabetes" isn't helping much; let me act as if I do so I don't die just in case. I really really don't want to believe I have diabetes, so don't encourage that tendency in me. The hamburger, however, didn't kill me, so thanks for that.

Add to that the thesis which is consuming my life and yet not getting done and you have a truly terrified boy here, one liable to snap at people. So forgive me if I snap.